Vlad the Impaler
by CreativeReading
Summary: I get called in by Agent Coulson to deal with a threat that I know all too well. Can I make up for the mistakes and redeem myself in Agent Coulson's eyes? Set some time after Episode 6, "FZZT".
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note** - I own nothing from Marvel or ABC. Julia is all mine.

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**Vlad the Impaler**

**Ch.1**

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"You know, there are some days that I really, really hate you," I said as a bullet whizzed past me.

"Well, to be honest, the feeling is mutual at times," Agent Coulson replied, crouching down next to me, using the concrete wall as cover.

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**20 hours earlier**

My phone buzzed, waking me. It was 5:38 a.m. and still dark outside. I groaned as I saw the caller I.D.

"Good Morning, Sunshine" I said, knowing full well it would irritate him. He preferred being called Agent or Agent Coulson. But, hey, wake me up this early in the morning and I decide to spread the misery around.

"We need you on a flight in 45 minutes, Agent Demarco."

"I just got back from a mission. Don't I get any down time?" I asked, knowing that it was futile to protest, but being just perverse enough to push it.

"Sorry, no, meet us at the airfield in 44 minutes."

Jerk. Usually there was at least a week or so between major assignments. Leave it up to Coulson to push it.

"Can't your dream team handle it?" I replied sarcastically.

"You have experience with this threat. Now you've got 43 minutes."

"What should I pack?" I gave in. There was no use at this point.

"Enough for 2 or 3 days. It's an infiltration mission, but also something for a party."

"Black tie or frat?" I grinned, hoping it was the former. I could no longer pass for a sorority girl.

"Black tie, uh, dress," he amended.

"See you soon," I said.

"42 minutes" he replied before hanging up.

I briefly wondered how much trouble I would get into if I just blew this assignment off. I'd never done it before, but I got back at midnight last night and my ribs were still aching slightly from the beating I took on my last mission. The unpleasant fact was that I fully believed that if I wasn't at the airfield on time, Agent Coulson would just send Agent Ward over to physically take me, kicking and screaming to the plane. Ward was so by the book, I could totally see him doing it, too.

I grabbed a quick breakfast, making sure to make the coffee extra strong. There is a ratio of sleep to caffeine that was very handy in situations like this. The coffee was warm and sweet and distracted me momentarily from the dread I had of going on assignment again so soon.

I took a quick shower, more to wake myself up than anything else. I dried my hair, awkwardly hanging my head upside down so that the diffuser could work its magic. When I finished, I sighed a bit. Curly hair is nice, but it's such a bother. Cut it too short, you look like a poodle; let it grow too long, the curl gets weighed down and listless. I narrowed my eyes and saw that my roots were growing out again. I'd need to hit the stylist before too long or my red highlights would look even more fake than usual.

I looked in the mirror and noticed dark circles under my bloodshot, grey eyes. Even the best concealer can only do so much. I threw on some make-up, covering up the freckles that dotted my cheeks, making sure that I repacked it quickly. Now that I was getting closer to 30 than I'd like to admit, I didn't go anywhere without moisturizer with SPF 50.

I packed a little black dress, as per orders, along with a pair of low heels that I knew from experience were suitable for running in. I threw in a few pairs of jeans and shirts as well as one or two more formal outfits. I looked at the ragged state of my nails and added a manicure set as well. My last assignment had been a bit rough and tumble and I didn't have the need to get all prettied up. It looked like this one was going to be a bit different.

Before leaving, I looked at my tiny apartment. Man, it was such a pigsty. I tried to remember the last time I cleaned it properly and felt chagrined when I couldn't.

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I arrived at the airfield right on time and marched straight to the plane. You know, for a semi-secret organization, S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to love to plaster its name and logo on everything.

"You're late," Agent Coulson barked at me.

"Good try, but I'm actually right on time," I said with a sugary sweet smile.

"Fine, come to the debriefing room," he looked down, not meeting my eyes. Something was off. Coulson and I sometimes had our differences, but I could tell he was holding something back.

After takeoff, Agent May put the plane on autopilot and we all got together in a main room. There was a table console covered in a large touchscreen. Coulson began, "Our main objective is Vladimer Kuchenov, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent."

"You've got to be freaking kidding me. THAT'S why I'm here? No. No way. There is no way I'm doing this." I began clenching my fists.

"Why? What's the big deal with this guy?" asked Skye, the computer expert.

"He's her ex," Ward replied.

"No, not my ex. We were never together, " I clarified.

"So, again, what's the big deal?" Skye repeated.

I sighed. "We were partners. We worked together. At first, it was great. He was wonderful at what he did, professional, detail-oriented. But, then, he started to get a bit . . . ." I took a deep breath, trying to describe the emotional turmoil in detached, clinical terms. "Let's just say he wanted to start up a romantic relationship. I declined. He pushed it. Then, he went ballistic and just lost it during a mission. I got myself re-assigned. He broke into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database to try to find me, jeopardizing my mission and nearly getting my new partner killed in the process. He escaped S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody after he was caught. I haven't seen him since."

I rubbed my eyes. "Coulson, what were you thinking? This is a horrible idea." Going after Vlad was the last thing I wanted to do.

"Some of the Chitauri weapons found after the Battle of New York have been reverse-engineered and it looks like he is brokering the buy for a major shipment in a week or so. Since he left S.H.I.E.L.D.'s employ, he's gotten into the illegal weapons trade. We just discovered he's gotten into something even more exotic. We found out he's attending museum opening in Rome tonight. We need to find out about the buy."

"Why me? Really, do you hate me that much?" The question was came out a bit whiny, but the pain behind it was real. I never wanted to see Vlad again.

"Sorry, but we just got our intel," he nodded at Skye, "and we had to act fast. As it is, we'll barely make it."

"Fine, so what's the plan? I mean, he used to be one of us. He knows the way we work. He's never going to believe that I just decided to fall in love with him."

"That's why we're going to play on his weakness," Coulson replied.

"And that would be?"

"His jealousy."

"So, how exactly are we going to use it against him?" I asked tentatively. I had a pretty good idea where this was going and I wasn't happy about it.

"You and Ward will pose as a couple, " Coulson stated, his arms crossed.

I rolled my eyes. Yup. That's what I'd feared.

"Vlad won't buy it, " I said firmly.

"And why not?" Coulson countered.

"Because, the one time he saw us both together, we spent the whole time arguing."

It was a mission in Nicaragua. Normally, Vlad and I worked alone, but Ward had an asset down there, so he tagged along. Ward and I clashed on every single aspect of the mission. I swear, if I said the sun was yellow, he'd say it was blue just to spite me.

"Sir, I have to agree with Agent Demarco on this one. Kuchenov knows we didn't get along. At all," Ward said, his arms crossed, too, mirroring Coulson.

I gave Ward a small smile. That was an understatement. Once, I actually almost hit him.

"So, use it to your advantage. You know, belligerent sexual tension and all that," Skye piped up.

"This is not a romantic comedy. The people who hate each other the most do not end up together in real life," I told her.

I paused. "Not that I hate you, Ward, sorry," I mumbled.

"No, I understand."

"Sorry, guys, that's the call. You have five hours before we land. You better come up with a convincing backstory." Coulson started putting away his file, the conversation clearly over in his mind.

"Yes, sir," Ward said tightly; I could tell he was not happy.

"Yes, sir," I echoed sharply.

I was worried that this was going to be the worst mission ever.

And I was so right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch.2**

After being dismissed by Coulson, Ward and I went to a private conference room to go over our cover story.

"So, how long have you and Little Miss Hacker been going out?" I asked as casually as I could.

"What, Skye? No, it's nothing like that. I'm her S.O."

"Significant Other?" I grinned.

"Supervising Officer," he snapped.

"Really? No wonder she came up with that line about belligerent sexual tension."

He growled. "Could we just focus on the mission?"

I nodded. No need to make this harder than it had to be.

"So, tell me, big boy, how did you woo me?" I asked, trying for levity while we worked on our backstory.

"Let's see, how about we got partnered up on a mission and things just progressed from there?" Ward replied, obviously clutching at straws.

"Let's add in a drunken night of tequila to get the ball rolling," I added.

"Are you saying the only way you'd be with me is if you were drunk?" he asked, his tone sharp.

The question took me off balance. I squirmed under his gaze. "I was actually thinking the opposite. You don't like me at all, but maybe after a round of shots . . . ." I trailed off.

"I don't dislike you," Ward said quietly.

"Wait, what?"

"Look, I know we clashed a lot on our last mission, but I know you're a good agent."

I thought for a moment. "Did you know? About Vlad? Could you tell, when we were on that mission together?" I asked quietly.

"I . . .," he paused, searching for the right words. "I knew that there was an intensity behind his concern for you that went beyond the normal partner relationship. But I had no idea that he was so . . ."

"Nutsy?" I supplied.

"For lack of a better word, " he said, finally grinning.

"What scares me is that he passed all the pysch evals, all the tests that S.H.I.E.L.D. threw at him. And he still went off the deep end," I said.

"So," Ward started, obviously wanting to change the subject, "a museum opening?"

"Yeah, it makes sense. Vlad grew up poor, and to make up for it, he was always desperate to prove he was cultured. Museums, opera, literature, anything that seemed high-brow. It was mostly for appearances. I could tell he really didn't like the stuff."

We spent the next few hours, taking notes and going over our game plan. Although we differed on a few points, on the whole, we were able to come up with a fairly decent strategy. Despite that, I was apprehensive. I still had nightmares that I never told anyone, especially not the S.H.I.E.L.D. therapist they made me visit after whole debacle. Nightmares about Vlad. There's nothing like knowing a trained killer could be gunning for you at any moment.

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The next stop was to meet with Fitz-Simmons. At first, I thought they were a young, married couple with a hyphenated name, but I was informed that the guy was Fitz and the woman was Simmons. They seemed to feed off of each other; their nervous energy being amplified. I couldn't help smiling. They were adorable.

They explained the Night-Night Gun. "Are you absolutely completely sure this is non-lethal?" I asked.

"Yes, yes," replied Simmons; she seemed almost offended by the question.

"Is it at all dependent on body weight; what about if the person has a heart condition or is elderly? Has it been tested on subjects like that?"

"Well, no, but the science suggests . . . " she trailed off, looking desperately at Ward for help.

"It's worked perfectly in the field," Ward stated, defending the woman and earning a relieved smile from her.

"And I'm sure that they were all somewhat healthy young individuals who were normal sized. What I am trying to determine are the limits of this device."

"Why?" asked Fitz apprehensively.

"Look, people die from supposedly non-lethal methods all the time. They can get hit by a bean bag round and hemorrhage to death. A taser can cause a heart attack. Heck, if someone falls and hits their head after being knocked out by this Night-Night Gun, they could die instantly."

Both scientists visibly blanched and I could tell they had never considered the possibility. Ward shot me a poisonous look and I could tell he didn't appreciate me enlightening his little science team to the darker aspects of their profession.

I smiled weakly. "Look, I'm sure it'll work fine," I said in an attempt to placate Ward.

"It's a little too heavy, though," I commented.

Fitz-Simmons rolled their eyes. "See, I told you," Ward said.

We spent the next several minutes going through the specs, making sure I understood how the gun worked. After leaving the lab, Ward and I went to the range to practice a bit with it.

"I didn't appreciate what you did back there. Making them second-guess what they do is detrimental to the team."

I sighed, "Look, Ward, I know they are so cute and fluffy and you'd like to keep them sweet and innocent as long as possible, but please, give me a break. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents kill people all the time. We all have blood on our hands. And that sucks. It really, really does. We tell ourselves that it's for the greater good, that we do it to save lives. And it does. But that still doesn't make those people any less dead."

"Look, I know they're green, but we need them. They do amazing work. If you start sowing seeds of doubt, it'll affect that."

"Fine, fine. I'll back off. Keep them adorable and endearing. But the day is going to come when the veil is going to be ripped from their eyes. Good luck dealing with them then," I snarked.

"Well, that'll be on me. You won't be here." It was harsh, a reminder that I was an outsider intruding on their precious team.

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After training, I checked in on Skye. She was resting in her mini-room, listening to music with her headphones on. "Hi," I said, knocking on the half- open door, "can I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." She scrambled to sit up in her bed and motioned me to sit on the only chair in the tiny room. I came in, closed the door behind me and sat down.

"First off, I wanted to say I was sorry. I really do appreciate you finding Vlad. And as much as I hate it, it really is good that I'm on this mission. It's a way to put right what I did."

"What was he like?" she asked, leaning forward a bit.

"He was a great partner. We balanced each other out well. I can be rash and intuitive; he was logical and fact-based. It all went really well, until . . . . . . ." I cringed, the memories flooding back.

"He went all stalker on you?"

"Yeah," I replied. "We were on a mission; our cover was as a married couple. Back at the hotel room, he made a pass at me. I turned him down as nicely as I could, figuring he was just lonely or stressed. Then, in the middle of the night, he tried again. At that point, we ended up having the big talk . . . . I told him I only thought of him as a friend, yada, yada, yada."

"And then?"

"The next day we had planned for me to get captured and then use the wounded gazelle gambit or reverse interrogation, which were risky options, but really our only plays at the time" I explained.

"The what?"

"It's when you let your opponent think you are weaker or less capable than you really are. Sometimes, they'll get overconfident and start gloating and give away important intel. "

Skye's eyes opened wide. "And that actually works?"

"In the movies, yes. In real life, only about 25% of the time. Still, it can be worth a try."

"So, what happens the other 75% of the time?"

"They shoot you in the face." I grinned. "Like I said, it's risky."

"It was going really well," I continued, "the target was giving up all sorts of information. Then, all of a sudden, Vlad broke in, guns blazing, ranting about how dare anyone touch me, how he was there to protect me. At first, I thought he was still using his cover, you know, crazed, concerned husband. But, he didn't stop. Once he neutralized the target and the guards, he went after the scientists in the adjoining room. I couldn't do anything; he hadn't untied me yet. I just sat there listening to him empty round after round into them, hearing their screams, rubbing my wrists raw trying to get free. When he ran out of ammo, he began stabbing them with some type of long metal pole. Hell, he even killed the janitor. That's how he got that horrible nickname."

"What?"

"Vlad the Impaler." I took a deep breath. "There's a lot of dark humor in our profession."

I went on, "Afterwards, I was so scared. He didn't look human. He was covered in blood and trembling. Luckily, he untied me and began to calm down. We called in the extraction and cleanup crews and then went to be debriefed. I told my superiors exactly what happened and requested to be transferred right away. I felt bad throwing Vlad under the bus like that, but there was no way could trust him again."

"Wow. That's intense."

"Well, things can go pear-shaped pretty quickly when people let their emotions get involved in this business. Speaking of that," I paused, "I want you to know that I have absolutely no designs on Ward."

"What? Uh, why would I care? Design away. It doesn't matter to me," she stammered.

"Hon, you all couldn't be more obvious if you were wearing neon signs."

"He doesn't . . . He doesn't trust me. I betrayed the team. That why I have to wear this 'gorgeous' bracelet." She rotated her wrist to show it off.

"Yeah, I saw the lojack. Believe me, I know a thing or two about needing to regain trust. See this," I pointed to a small scar near my left shoulder blade. "You aren't the only one. Your partner goes crazy and S.H.I.E.L.D. gets a little twitchy. They implanted it after Vlad took off. They told me it was for my own good, for my safety, so that they could track me in case anything ever happened. Still feels like a leash. But, I keep hoping that one day, they'll take it out."

I stood. "Well, I should get going. Thanks for the chat."

"Good luck," she called after me as I turned to leave.

"Thanks, you too" and with that, I left to get changed.

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Once I was dressed and my hair and makeup were as good as I was able to get them, I went into the main lounge area. Ward let out a low wolf whistle when he saw me. "Nice," he said as way of a compliment. I didn't let it go to my head. In Nicaragua, I spent the whole time in camo fatigues and covered in mud. I didn't take a shower the entire week we were out in the field together. In contrast, being clean looked glamorous.

Also, I was realistic; I was normally a 6. If I went all out - hair, make-up, the right dress -maybe, just maybe I could hit an 8. But, on this plane, I was far from the most beautiful agent. Which was fine by me. Unlike the Bond movies, looking too good is actually a detriment to field work; it makes you memorable. It makes it harder to blend in, harder to hide in a crowd. Being pretty is fine, but once you hit gorgeous, you stand out. I'm no Black Widow. I wasn't hired to seduce rich oil barons. I was hired to sneak into their chateaus and steal their illegal goods. To be honest, this was my first assignment where it actually seemed to matter what I looked like. But, the funny thing is, it wouldn't matter much to Vlad. He'd held my hair while puking, seen one of my legs ragged from cuts and infected, carried me when I was gushing blood from a head wound. He really wouldn't care whether or not my eyeshadow was the right color.

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I stopped by Coulson's office, wanting to smooth things over. "It's a great team that you've assembled."

"You want to know why I didn't pick you for it."

"I know why. Vlad." I crossed my arms and leaned against the door frame.

"You didn't take the shot," he sighed. "You didn't take the shot and he escaped. He got away. And now he's out there, using all the training that S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him to run guns. And every life he takes, that's on you."

"I know, I know," I paused. "He was my partner. . ."

"You put your personal feelings above the safety of your team. You endangered other people's lives by your actions. I can't trust you."

"Yet, here I am," I pressed.

"Here you are," he said dryly. "One chance, one mission, to make right what you did."

"I won't let you down."

"See to it."

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I couldn't take the shot when I saw Vlad escaping because no matter how good a shot you think you are, whenever you shoot someone, you are likely to kill them. In real life, there is no shooting to wound someone; you point a gun at someone and you are trying to end their life. And I couldn't do it. Not to Vlad.

I paid for that decision, many times over. There were the endless rounds with the company psychologist, the baby assignments that were strictly level one stuff. It had been three years and I was still paying apparently. Agent Coulson still didn't fully trust me. I met him for the first time afterward, so he had only known me as the screw-up, the person who let a murderer get away. All my years of service for S.H.I.E.L.D. wiped away by one bad decision. I had heard he'd mellowed after dying, which I guess was why I was there. The old Coulson would never have given me a second chance.

It was time to prove myself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch. 3**

We landed near Rome at a private airfield owned by S.H.I.E.L.D. and took the SUV to the museum. I shook my head when I saw the vehicle. "Don't we have anything that doesn't have the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem all over it?"

"We can't all fit in Lola," Coulson said, referring to his red mid-life crisis convertible.

"We usually don't take the van unless we need surveillance," Ward explained.

I shrugged my shoulders. Looks like we weren't trying to be circumspect.

We piled inside and sped to the museum. Rome was a beautiful city, but I'd never gotten to visit it when not on assignment. Just once, I'd love to order an espresso in an Italian cafe and not have to sit with my back to the wall with a clear view of the door.

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Now, Vlad was the perfect, nondescript intelligence agent. Average weight, average height, medium brown hair, medium brown eyes, no scars, no tattoos; he was neither handsome nor ugly. If you had to describe him after meeting him, there would be nothing about him that would stick out in your mind.

I looked over at my "date" as we entered the museum and huffed. Ward, on the other hand, attracted attention everywhere he went. He had brown hair and eyes, too, but was also 6'2", had cheekbones that could cut glass and reminded me vaguely of an Abercrombie and Fitch print ad. In a tux, he practically screamed, "Look at me! Look at me!" So much for undercover work. I cringed at the thought of Vlad seeing him. Ward looked exactly like the playboy, debonair type agent that he hated.

"Do you see him?" Ward asked, craning his neck.

"No, he knows how to blend in with a crowd, unlike some people," I said irritably.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ward snapped. "How are we not blending?"

"Really? Are you that obtuse? Everyone on your team, even the baby scientists, are gorgeous. It's hardly conducive to covert ops," I explained.

"You think I'm gorgeous," Ward said with a smirk and straightened his bow tie.

"Uggh. Only you would take an insult and twist it into a compliment. Look, let's just forget about it and look for Vlad," I was sorry I had even brought it up.

I saw Coulson and Agent May at the far end of the room, acting as a beta couple. Coulson didn't look too bad in a tux himself, and May was, of course, perfection in a long, red dress. Really, they needed to hire a few ugly people, if only to balance things out.

"Well, we don't have to worry about Vlad forgetting about you," Ward said with a grin.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, looking around the room.

"Look, next to the entrance."

I looked and sure enough, there was Vlad, looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo, tugging at his bow tie, surrounded by at least ten burly bodyguards who were obviously packing. In some people, it might be considered paranoid to have so much security, but it isn't paranoia if people really are out to get you.

It made me smile to see Vlad fidget in his clothes; we both had hated assignments that included formal wear. My smile fell, however, when I saw his date. It was my twin.

Well, not my real twin, since I don't have any sisters, but the woman on Vlad's arm could be my doppelganger. She had the same curly, medium brown hair with reddish highlights that clearly weren't natural, wide-set grey eyes, 5' 6", with the same curves that wouldn't go away even with the ridiculous amount of wretched wind sprints I subjected myself to. Really, the only differences I could see were that she wore heels that would have sent me toppling to the ground and her nails were perfect red talons that no real field agent could maintain. Even our little black dresses were similar, a fitted top with a full, short skirt.

"She doesn't look a thing like me," I protested, more out of habit than conviction.

Ward burst out laughing. I would have slugged him if it wouldn't have blown our cover.

"Maybe he's perfected cloning. Maybe he has a harem of Agent Demarcos back home. Imagine the possibilities, " he leered at me, but I figured he was just paying me back for teasing him about Skye.

Now it was my turn to make him uncomfortable. I slid my arms around his waist to hug him. "Time to play the happy couple. It won't be too hard. Just close your eyes and pretend I'm Skye."

"You have to make everything difficult, don't you?" He asked as he lowered his head and began kissing my neck.

"It's part of my charm. C'mon, you know you love it." I tried to track where Vlad was, but Ward was more than a little distracting. I just reminded myself that we were play acting. Then, my stomach sank. Ward was being a bit too distracting for mere show.

"Back off, Ward," I said under my breath.

"Why, can't concentrate?" he whispered in my ear with a chuckle, hot breath on my neck.

"Look, don't hit on me just because you don't have the guts to go after Skye. It's not fair to her and it sure as hell isn't fair to me. I'm not going to be a pawn in your twisted game."

He pulled back, shame written on his face. "Sorry, I didn't . . . , sorry."

"It's fine; let's just drop it." I sighed in relief as he kept up the pretext of a happy couple, but was no longer trying to twist my insides into a knot. I knew I had promised the little computer expert that I would stay away from Ward, but I was only human and it was hard to be noble with a GQ model nibbling on my neck.

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After we were sure Vlad had spotted us, I gave Ward a kiss on the check. "I'm off to the ladies' room. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," he said with a wink.

Upon exiting the bathroom, I saw Vlad waiting there for me, alone, leaning against the wall of the corridor.

"Hello, my dear Julia," Vlad said in his faux British accent that he used to seem sophisticated. It always made me shudder when I heard it, like he was trying too hard. Now, though, I felt a twinge of nostalgia that I didn't even know that I possessed. I didn't even realize until that moment how much I had missed him. For a while, we had been the best of friends, sharing our lives together, protecting each other from death.

But, underneath, I knew why I never felt anything romantic towards him. It wasn't looks or sophistication; it was his deep feelings of inadequacy that pushed me away. He never felt good enough. Not handsome enough, not rich enough, just plain not enough. He needed constant reassurance that he was a great agent, a smart man, and on and on. It was exhausting to be his friend at times. I couldn't imagine being his girlfriend.

"Hi, Vlad," I said, not even pretending to be surprised. He grabbed my arm and propelled me into a nearby empty office. I could have resisted, but since the whole point was to be alone with him, I went along willingly.

He sat me down in a large overstuffed chair and leaned over me.

"Are you seriously trying to make me believe that you're with Ward?" The tone was jovial, but I could hear the pain behind it.

Now, it was my turn to display my acting chops, to try to fool a man who knew me better than almost anyone else in the world.

I looked down, going over the cover story we'd rehearsed. I couldn't meet his eyes or I'd give it away. "We were partnered together about a year after you left. We went on a few missions. We actually started to get along a bit. Then, one night, we were trading stories over a bottle of tequila, and one thing led to another . . ." I trailed off, knowing that details weren't needed.

"So, I am to believe that you, of all people, fell for the most by-the-book agent in all of S.H.I.E.L.D. Remember our last mission in South America, when you kicked the ambassador?"

"Well, he shouldn't have said. . . ." I started.

"In the face?" he added.

"He was way out of line!" I yelled.

"He was our only asset in the area. We barely made it out of the country alive!" he shouted.

Okay, I was going to have to amp it up a bit to sell the relationship with Ward. "I. . . . I care about Grant. A lot," I said softly.

"You cared about me at one time. We were inseparable," he said, staring down at me.

"We were partners." I tried to reason with him.

"We could be partners again. In more ways than one. You don't have to live like they make you live. Never knowing where you'll be the next day. Never knowing what new horror you'll see. Imagine no longer having to live in a hovel, scraping by on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s pay."

"I've moved since you went away," I said with a confidence I didn't feel.

"I know, my dear. I've been there. That messy little thing on 6th Street."

I grimaced. I had hoped that I was safe, but I could see now that I was just kidding myself. You can't be safe from an obsessive ex-agent.

"Of course, I've kept tabs on my girl." I winced at the endearment. This was getting creepy. He began to play absentmindedly with one of my curls. "Did you ever think I'd forget you? You are locked away in my memory. Always with me."

I was wrong; now it was beyond creepy.

"So what's up with Secret Spy Barbie out there?" I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"A poor substitute for the original, I'm afraid."

"I don't know," I said flippantly. "She seems to be able to rock a pair of heels better than I ever could."

"She is insipid," he hissed, "but she does have her uses."

Well, that was nauseating.

"Vlad, why do this? You're three seconds away from twirling an imaginary mustache and stroking a white cat. Why go all Bond villain? You could have hidden away, gone places S.H.I.E.L.D. could never find you. Instead you decide to become an alien arms dealer?" My voice rose as I kept pleading with him.

"Hide away in the shadows? I'd never give S.H.I.E.L.D. the satisfaction. I'll never go back to living under their thumb. How many hellholes did we have to slog through just because it was our assignment? Now, I live like a king, like I was meant to live."

He caught my wrist, leaning in closer to me. "And you could be my queen, Julia. Let's not fight. We both know you won't shoot me. You couldn't last time."

"I know," I said, letting all the defeat and sorrow flood my voice as he bent down to try to kiss me. Then, with my free hand, I took the Night-Night Gun from my thigh holster and shot Vlad point blank in the face. As he slumped to the floor, I said, "Sorry, but I've changed."

Never make a smart aleck comment before you shoot anyone. Wait until they are down on the ground. It makes it much less likely that they'll duck.

00000

Ward and I had gone over a hundred different complicated scenarios, but with Vlad being an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, we just went with the simplest. I was the only S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that Vlad would risk being alone with, because I was the only one he thought wouldn't shoot him. Ward would deal discreetly with the bodyguards and Coulson and May would help me extract Vlad's unconscious body.

Back on the plane, we secured Vlad's inert body in the interrogation room while we waited for him to wake up. Simmons had told us that it would take at least 5 hours, so I grabbed a free bed and got some shut-eye. Who knew that next time I'd be able to sleep?

May alerted us when he woke up five and a half hours later. I stretched in my bed, dreading the next part. I always hated interrogations. They were always messy and the intel was never as good as you'd like it to be. Steal a secret from a computer and you knew the info was good. Have someone tell you something in an interrogation and you could never be sure.

After dressing in comfy jeans and a T-shirt, I steeled myself for the upcoming confrontation. I made sure that I was properly caffeinated before I even entered a room. Dealing with Vlad without coffee would've been a bad idea.

"You shot me! You actually shot me! In the face!" Vlad shouted as I entered the interrogation room, disbelief written all over his face.

"Well, you're a bad guy now. You made it easy on me," I said, trying to be flippant.

"You honestly think you're going to get any intel from me. I'm disappointed, Julia," Vlad said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, I'm not going to interrogate you. She is." I pointed to Agent May as she entered the room. I knew that she was better at it than I was and she didn't have any personal feelings that could cloud her judgment.

May grinned slightly, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. Melinda May was a legend. I could see Vlad shrink a bit in his chair.

"But first, we have a little gift to start the ball rolling," I said as I grabbed Vlad's arm and injected the truth serum into it.

"What? What was that?" Vlad snapped.

"Just something to make you more cooperative," Agent May replied.

00000

Between the truth serum and May's techniques, Vlad gave up everything about the buy. After an hour, it seemed as though all our problems were over. That is, until Vlad started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Agent May asked suspiciously.

"You guys are so predictable. It makes things boring," Vlad said between laughs, tears starting to stream down his face.

"What makes you say that?" Agent May demanded.

"You think I didn't plan for the fact I might get snatched? You think I didn't text the buyers the second I saw Julia? Whatever details on the buy that you got from me are null and void."

"How?" she asked.

"If they didn't get a phone call from me every half hour, the buy was off. I've been here for hours. My second-in-command will have made alternate arrangements. You've got nothing," he gloated.

"Then, we need to get to the guns before the buy. As nice as it would be to snatch the buyers in the act, our first priority is to make sure that they don't get their hands on those weapons. Where are they being held right now?" I asked Vlad. I could see Agent May tense next to me, but she didn't say anything.

Vlad turned serious and I could feel him fighting the truth serum. Reluctantly, he gave the location of the warehouse as well as the name of his second-in-command, passcodes and the number of guards at the warehouse.

"Do you have any more questions to add, Agent May?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Vlad, how close are you to getting out of your cuffs and escaping?" I asked.

"About 80% there."

"Once you escape, what will you do to anyone you find on this transport?" I demanded.

"I'll slit their throats."

I pressed a button to activate the intercom.

"Simmons, are there any adverse reactions to multiple uses of the Night-Night Gun?" I asked.

"No, none at all, Agent Demarco."

"Thanks," I said and shot Vlad in the face again.

Agent May gave me an odd look.

I shrugged. "It's a lot easier to do the second time around."

000000

We had about five hours to form a plan, get to the warehouse, liberate the weapons and get back. Easy.

"Why are you smiling?" Ward asked, when I left the interrogation room.

"Because we are finally getting to do something I'm actually good at. Infiltration. And, if we're really, really lucky, we'll get to blow something up," I said with a wink.

"You are so weird, Demarco," he said, hiding a smile.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea," I grinned, glad that I was finally going to have some fun on this mission.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ch. 4**

We visited Fitz-Simmons to see what kind of tech we could use inside the warehouse. Fitz showed me the tiny flying helicopters with mounted cameras, that could give us a clear view of the layout as well as the positions of the guns and all of the guards.

"Wait, what was the name of the helicopter?"

"Um, Sleepy," Fitz replied.

"And there are seven of them?"

"Yes," he said uncertainly.

"Are they all named after the Seven Dwarves?" I asked him excitedly.

"Yeah."

"Oh my goodness, that is so completely adorable. I swear, I just want to have you guys work all my cases with me. Do you know how incredibly dull most tech guys are? Ward, you are so lucky."

"Uh, yeah, thanks," he said and I could tell he was a bit embarrassed.

0000000

Since Fitz had revamped the helicopters so that he could work them remotely, the scientists were left on the plane. I was hesitant to leave them with Vlad, but, on the other hand, I reasoned that they might not be any safer with us. We secured Vlad in the holding cell on board and handcuffed his unconscious body. Twice.

Once we got to the warehouse, we were met by a large contingent of local S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. A lot of teams like to leapfrog over any local help, but backup in a situation like this can mean the difference between life and death.

Based on the intel we got from Vlad, Skye jury rigged an override device that would open all of the doors and disable all the security systems. We left Skye in the van to operate the device remotely, while Coulson, May, and Ward suited up to enter the warehouse. And me? Well, Coulson decided that I was going to play my own "twin", Vlad's concerned girlfriend, as a way into the warehouse to plant the device in the control room. Therefore, I was the only one that wasn't going to get any nifty body armor or weapons, in case I got searched. It also meant I had to scramble to find fake nails on an hour's notice.

I hated the plan, but I got outvoted. Coulson assured me that it would work, since she looked just like me and he didn't think that the second-in-command would be able to tell the difference. Ward had briefly made contact with her while dealing with the Vlad's bodyguards at the gala. He'd found out her name was Lydia and she was American, which was good, since my Italian was rusty at best.

000000

Vlad's second-in-command, Matteo, was a giant of a man. He was 6'4" and his muscle-bound physique made it look like he lived in a gym. With dark hair and eyes and classic Italian features, he would have been attractive, if not for the permanent haughty sneer on his face. He looked like the kind of man who tormented all of his classmates in high school. I shuddered when I saw him. I hated guys like that.

When the guard at the entrance took me to his office, he gave me a confused look. "What are you doing here, Lydia?"

"Vlad's gone. We got separated at the gala and I haven't seen him since. Do you know where he is?" I tried to project concern and worry.

"Yeah, well, it looks like there might be a snag in our plans," he admitted.

"He told me that if anything ever happened to him, that I should come to you," I said, trying to sound earnest.

"Well, you probably shouldn't be here, just in case something does happen."

"He gave me something, something for the control room, in case of emergency."

"Crap, that sounds like him. He always has to make things so complicated. Come on. I'll take you there." He led me by the elbow.

As we neared the control room, Matteo stopped and pulled me to the side. He loomed over me. My back was to the wall and I was facing him. He had his hand firmly planted on the wall next to my face, blocking my escape.

"So, am I gonna see you tonight?" he asked suggestively.

Crap. Vlad's girlfriend was two-timing him with his second-in-command. Which meant he knew her. Intimately.

"Uh . . ." I began, frantically trying to think. We hadn't gone over this possibility in our plan. "I hope?" I replied.

"So, uhh, how much did the surgery cost him?" he asked as he began to trace the outline of my face with one finger.

"The surgery?" I repeated.

"Yeah, so you'd look like her."

I blanched. Vlad had paid for a woman to have plastic surgery to look like me. What a sick puppy. No wonder she looked like a twin.

"Funny thing is," he continued, "I don't see the scar."

He pushed back my hair to look at my neck. I batted his hand away, but it was too late. Not only did he not see the scar, he saw the earpiece I was using to keep in contact with my team.

His eyes narrowed. "You're her." He grabbed my upper arm.

So much for being sneaky.

Fighting someone taller and bigger than you is dependent largely on surprise as well as fighting dirty. I stomped on his foot and when he let go off my arm in surprise, I punched him in the throat. He doubled over and I kneed him in the face. He slumped to the ground. I had to smile. I didn't think that was going to work at all.

"We've been compromised," I whispered.

"We heard," Coulson's voice crackled in my ear. "Just proceed to the control room and plant the override."

I tried to drag Matteo's body into a nearby office, but he was way too heavy. I broke a nail in the process, reminding me why I never wear them on a mission.

Okay. Plan 2. I jogged the last few feet to the control room.

"Matteo's fainted," I told the three guards inside.

Two of the three guards sprinted down the corridor, which left only one for me to deal with. I planted the device when he turned his back to me and went back to staring at the monitors.

"It's in," I whispered.

Skye unlocked all the doors in the building and our forces began to pour in. The screens in the control room all went black and I gave the guard a wide smile and a wink before scampering out of there.

The weapons were located on a lower level. I ran down there, meeting my teammates and grabbing an extra Night-Night Gun from Ward. Although the upper level guards were quickly overcome by our Roman team thanks to the intel from the nifty helicopters, the lower level guards pinned my team down in the corner of the basement. For a while, we were doing well. Then, the guards broke into the weapons cases and began to fire the Chitauri weapons.

Since that was the one wrinkle we had anticipated, Coulson took out an EMP device that he had gotten from Fitz and temporarily disabled all of the Chitauri weapons. It was a machine that I had only known as science fiction, but with this team, it seemed that amazing things were routine.

When the alien based weaponry malfunctioned, the guards switched back to their standard weapons, but by then, they were running pretty low on ammo. No one really plans for an extended firefight and most people on guard duty don't even bother packing an extra clip. We, on the other hand, were prepared. The Night-Night Guns were dropping the guards left and right. I was sure that the fight was almost over, when I got hit, pain blooming and growing on my arm.

I glanced at my left arm, blood flowing freely. It was only a graze, but it hurt like hell. I glared at Coulson next to me.

"I can't believe it. Ten years with S.H.I.E.L.D. and I never got shot. Not once. I get one assignment from you and I take a bullet. You know, there are some days that I really, really hate you," I said as a bullet whizzed past me.

"Well, to be honest, the feeling is mutual at times," Agent Coulson replied, crouching down next to me, using the concrete wall as cover.

"And it's only a flesh wound," he added.

"Says the man who isn't shot at the moment," I snarled.

Five minutes later, the fight was over. The majority of the guards were unconscious and the others had run out of ammo and surrendered. We left the guards and Matteo in the the custody of our Roman operatives while we secured an additional truck to take the weapons back to the plane.

It was time for me to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ch. 5**

Simmons patched me up when we got back. I probably wasn't even going to have a scar. For all of my whining and complaining, it wasn't that much of a wound. I thanked both her and Fitz profusely. They were a wonderful team and I envied Coulson for snagging them. I decided to rest on the way home, fully taking advantage of the pain pill Simmons gave me.

00000

We touched down a few hours later. I made sure I saw Vlad before I left. Despite Simmons' assurances, he looked a little woozy after repeated shots with the tranquilizer gun.

He stood shakily when he saw me. "So, how did it go?" he asked sharply.

"Great. Got all of the weapons, no casualties. Pretty good day all around." I almost told him about his little piece on the side and his second-in-command out of spite. But, I held back. I felt sorry for him.

He sneered. "Do you really believe that you are in the right? On the side of the angels as they say? Half of your tech is salvaged from operations like this. What do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to do with all of those weapons? Destroy them? Don't be so naive."

"If the Chitauri come back . . ." I began.

"The Chitauri? The Chitauri?" he started to laugh. "You think S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to wait around to use those arms on the Chitauri? Or on another Norse demigod gone crazy? You really aren't that gullible, are you? Open your eyes. Those weapons will be standard issue for all S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives in what three, maybe four months. You won't be using them against aliens. You'll be using them against anyone S.H.I.E.L.D. determines to be a risk."

I smiled wanly. That's the problem with evil. It can sound so reasonable at times. Twist you around. Tie you in knots.

"Bye, Vlad. Hope to never see you again."

"Don't count on it, my dear," he said as I left.

No one ever wants to think they're the villain. Everyone is the hero of their own story. Maybe Vlad actually believed what he was saying. Maybe he was just trying to mess with me, one last attempt to get under my skin. It really didn't matter. I knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. sometimes operated in a moral grey area. I just did the best I could to make sure I didn't.

00000

After that, I made the rounds, saying good-bye to Fitz-Simmons, May and Skye. Then, I took Ward aside, wanting some privacy.

"Well, Ward, this is goodbye. I wanted to let you know that Vlad admitted something about our last mission together during his interrogation. He intentionally manipulated us and pitted us against each other. That's why we argued so much." What I didn't tell Ward was the reason why. Vlad thought that there was something between us.

"Honestly, though, that's not the only reason we didn't get along," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, well, I guess we're just different types of agents, " I said with a shrug.

"I know, but I want you to know that I think we work well together, balance each other out," he said.

"Thanks, now, before I go, I have one last piece of advice. Don't take so long warming up to Skye. You never know when she'll move on without you."

"It's complicated with me and her," he replied, running his hand through his hair.

"No, it was complicated with me and Vlad. And messy. And bloody. And tragic. And disturbing. The point is, it's simple with you two. You like her; she likes you. Don't let an opportunity slip through your fingers."

"Well, thanks for the unsolicited romantic advice," he said wryly.

"Anytime," I said and slugged him in the arm. I'm not good at goodbyes.

000000

I got away without even a scar and we caught the bad guy as well as secured the weapons. So, why was this my worst mission ever? Because I knew, beyond a doubt, that Vlad would never see the light of day again. If he was really lucky and escaped execution, he'd spend the rest of his days behind bars. When you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, they own you. Forever. They might let you retire, but go bad like Vlad did and they will lock you away until the end of your days. There's no parole for someone with S.H.I.E.L.D. training. And I did that to Vlad. I would live the rest of my life knowing that he was rotting away in a cell. Even though I knew he deserved it, I still felt miserable about it.

000000

I stopped by Coulson's office on my way out.

"You did good work, " Coulson said, motioning me inside.

"Thanks, is this the part where we hug and braid each other's hair?" I asked, not able to help myself.

Coulson bit his lip to keep from laughing. "You took the shot; I'm impressed."

"I'd like to say that I grew as an agent, but the truth is that it was ridiculously easy to shoot Vlad once I found out he was sleeping with my doppelganger," I confessed.

"Yeah, I can see that." He paused. "Look, we could use someone like you. I'd be honored to have you on our team."

"Thanks, you know, I meant what I said, you do have a great team. But it is a team. You guys have bonded. Throwing me into the mix might disturb that. But, if you ever need me, I'd love to work with you guys from time to time."

"Well, I'm sorry to see you go, but I've got your number," Coulson said, his arm outstretched.

"That you do. See you around." I resisted the urge to hug him and shook his hand instead. See, who says I can't behave myself?

"I'm counting on it," he said with a wink.

And that's what happened the first time I worked with Coulson's team.

* * *

**Author's Note- **I hope you liked the story. I had a blast writing it.** Reviews are better than strong, sweet coffee on a cold winter's morning!**

**Updated Author's Note** - Agent Julia Demarco will return in **"Coulson's Christmas Gift"** (Mini - Prequel to "**Ivan the Terrible**")


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